Whispered Memories
by neko-chibi-faithkitty
Summary: When Melinda gets her hands on a strange trinket the ghost attached to it leads her to a long forgotten tragedy and a secret that no one suspects. Rated T for mild violence at the beginging, just to be safe.
1. Prologue

AN and Disclaimer: Sadly, I own neither Rise of the Guardians nor Ghost Whisperer. Now, this is my first real attempt at a GW crossover, and it's been a while since I watched any of the episodes, so if you notice anything completely out in left field, please give me a heads up and I'll fix it. Also, I'm not 100% happy with the title so it may change, fair warning. (^^) Well, enjoy!

* * *

~Burgess, NY~1728~

The little village was still in the quiet night. The soft snow seemed to glow with its own gentle luminescence beneath the pale light of the full moon. Silent flurries of snow danced on the light breeze that teased through the village commons looking for someone to play with. Inside the crude cabins, hearth fires were banked and candles were being blown out one by one as families slipped into a pleasant slumber.

In one small wooden home, a young mother held one last lit candle as she peered into the tiny room where her to young sons lay sleeping. Hannah Abbot smiled at the still forms of the twin boys that rested peacefully. James, the younger son lay curled protectively around his older brother Jack. Jack snuggled firmly against his younger twin, their thin bodies tangled together. Carefully Hannah moved past her sons to the window, checking that the shutters were firmly latched against the whirling winter wind whispering cheerfully outside in the darkness. Reassured she gave her sons one last kiss goodnight. "Sweet dreams." She sighed closing the door softly behind her.

As the door closed against the candle's light the room fell into darkness. Neither child stirred as the darkness twisted into shadows, as the shadows drifted closer to their little bed. "So…" The voice was soft and smooth and deceptively kind. "This one must be James…" A thin finger pointed to one of the boys, "making you Jack." The shadows shifted as the dark figure gently ran a hand through the hair of the brother curled around his twin. "I am sorry, Jack." He murmured as his fingers wrapped gently around the boy's neck. "But I can't allow you to grow up."

Jack frowned in his sleep as he felt James thrashing against him. When the younger boy's foot hit his shin painfully he jerked awake with a soft gasp. Then he saw the wraith-like man holding his brother. His tiny gasp of shock was lost in his twin's gulping attempts to breathe past the hand wrapped around his throat. The man laughed, dropping the limp figure as the remaining twin screamed.

Hannah awoke to her son's shrill cry, her wide brown eyes filled with fear as she exploded up from her own bed and ran to her children. By the time she reached them, her younger son was dead. "Jack!" She cried, gathering her living son in her arms, her eyes horrified by the sight of James' empty eyes. "Jack, what happened?"

"I-it was the B-bogeyman!" He shrieked. "The Bogeym-man killed J-Jamie!"

Hannah stood beside the four simple graves, her eyes red from her tears as her small son stood beside her. "Mother?" Jack asked softly, unsure in the face of his mother's sorrow.

"It's going to be okay." She said, kneeling to hold him.

"But the Bogeyman-"

"Do you know how to fight the Bogeyman?" She asked him, a small, sad smile on her lips. "The Bogeyman is just fear. If you can laugh and have fun, you won't ever be afraid, and he won't ever be able to hurt you…" She looked away from her living son to the fresh grave of his brother. "I should have told you that." She said gently.

Slowly Jack reached for his mother's hand. "I know now." He said quietly. "He won't ever get me. I won't let him hurt anyone else, ever again." His voice grew firmer with every word, determination seeping into him. "I'll protect people now."

* * *

Well, there it is. The first real chapter is already written, it just needs to be proofed. It may be a bit before we see the ROTG characters, but I promise they will be here! Hope you like!


	2. Chapter One

AN: After doing a minimal amount of research (because I'm a lazy bum) I discovered that there are numerous towns all over the USA named Grandview. However, since ROTG is supposed to take place in New York, I went with Grandview, NY. It's a little bitty place slightly north of Queens, according to Google Maps, so it seemed like it should work. Also, since I can't find a Burgess, NY (does it really exist?) I'm placing it near Medusa, NY because I noticed a ton of little lakes, ponds and rivers in that area and it looked like it would be a good place for Jack's pond. That being said, please be patient with me. I've never been anywhere near New York. And, as always I sadly own nothing. :'( BTW as a last note, I named the wind Maria like the song. To prevent confusion it's pronounced like it is in the song, so its sounds like Mariah even thought it's spelled Maria.

* * *

Grandview, NY~ Present Day~

_The wind gusted playfully through the town, kicking up litter and flotsam into tiny dirt devils that whirled mischievously in her wake. Her simple child-like laugh danced behind her on the breeze for those with the faith to hear it. She felt the chill in her essence, a sure sign that her friend would be coming soon. She giggled gleefully. Grandview was well overdue for a snow day. The mess with Pitch had distracted Jack enough that he was a bit behind her. _

_Her sprightly laugh whistled as she drifted to the center of the small town letting her powers tangle around the people who lived there. She circled the simple memorial that presided over the small square when a preoccupied woman caught her eye. For a moment, Maria debated whether or not she should act. She wasn't, after all, as mischievous as her dear Jack. No, that delightfully fun wicked streak was too easily let loose in her little dirt devils. But the opportunity was too good to pass up. The woman was juggling some stack of papers and trading it with a large steaming drink and her very large purse with car keys held loosely between her teeth. Jack would never let her live it down if she let the woman off. With another soft giggle the little spirit of the wind floated off of the top of the statue to circle wickedly around the tall woman._

Melinda hurried to the door as Delia came in dripping latte, trying to shake off both her purse and the soggy newspaper she held. "Are you alright?" She asked the taller woman, taking the newspaper and attempting to dry in on the countertop with the roll of paper towels she had grabbed when her friend went down.

"Just toss it." Delia grumbled, snagging a few towels and starting to pat herself dry. "It's only fifty cents; I'll get another one."

"Oh, um, okay." The younger shopkeeper acquiesced. "So what happened out there?"

"I don't know." Delia sighed, dropping her now empty coffee cup in the small trash bin behind the counter. She watched as Melinda moved on to her purse. "It was like the wind just had it in for me."

"Weird." The darker haired woman half smiled.

"Yeah." Her friend sighed.

"So, what brings you by?"

Delia paused for a moment in patting herself dry. "Oh, I almost forgot! I was at an estate sale upstate." She said, tossing the used paper towel in the bin with the wasted coffee and reaching for her purse. Melinda let it go, watching curiously as the older woman dug through it. "I picked up this locket and I thought you might be able to look into it for me."

"Sure." The young antique dealer smiled, accepting the tiny treasure from its new owner. "Oo! Have you tried to open it yet?"

"No." Delia shrugged, grabbing another paper towel and attacking her purse again. "I didn't want to break it."

Giving a bright smile, Melinda took the locket over to the counter workspace where she carefully began to pry it open, being wary of the delicate gold filigree. Slowly, she gently opened the stiff hinges as Delia watched curiously. "Oh, wow." Melinda gasped as she carefully revealed the locket's hidden prize.

"What is it?"

"Portraits!" Melinda exclaimed.

She glanced up to see Delia's confusion. "I thought most lockets had portraits?"

The younger woman laughed, holding the locket out for Delia to look at. "These are hand painted." She explained. "The detail is incredible. And look at the clothing! They must be the original pictures."

The two women stared in shock as the two tiny paintings. On the right was a youth in his late teens. His bright brown eyes were full of laughter, and his thin lips quirked slightly upward in an almost smile teeming with playful mischief. The golden frame brought out the light golden hues in his wild windswept hair. The rough brown vest and simple linen shirt were old-fashioned and coarse looking, obviously homemade.

The facing portrait was of the same young man at a much younger age with another boy who could only be his twin. Their short-cropped hair was a matching nut-brown that also matched their large brown eyes. Their matching smiles were only different because the child on the left was missing a front tooth, giving him a more fun-loving appearance. The simple undyed wool of their shirts seemed whiter against the matching black vests they wore.

"I wonder who they were." Delia mused, unaware that Melinda's smile had faltered. The longer she stared at the two happy paintings the sadder and more melancholy she felt. The certain knowledge that the boys had met a tragic fate seemed to weigh heavily in her heart. "Mel? What's wrong?" The older woman frowned as the first tear fell.

"It's nothing." Melinda answered, forcing a smile as she swiped away the tears. "Just wondering what became of them."

"Tell you what," Delia suggested to her slowly, "why don't you hang onto it for me while you look into it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." The taller brunette smiled. "Now, I've got to get going. I told Ned I'd taking him out shopping after school." She said, gathering up her now somewhat clean purse.

"Wait, Ned wanted to go shopping?" Melinda asked with disbelief.

"Something about some new video game that was out." Delia shrugged. "Who knows.

"Sounds like fun." The young woman said kindly. "I'll call you if I find out anything."

"Sounds good." Delia agreed with a final wave.

When she was gone, the ghost whisperer turned to the empty shop, the smile completely gone from her face. "I know you're here." She said aloud. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me." She waited for a moment in silence, the oppressive sorrow filling the shop. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"Jamie." The woman's voice was thin and worried. "He's going to kill Jamie and I can't stop him…"

TBC…

* * *

Evil, I know leaving it right there, but heh, it was too good of a place to stop. Anyway, I hope you liked it! I'll try to get the rest out soonish, though for me soon seems to be a very loose term. *grins weakly* I know I should be working on any one of my other stories, but this one wouldn't leave me alone. BTW out of curiosity I wonder how many of you have guessed who Hannah is. It shouldn't be to hard to guess, but I'm just curious. Well, see you next time!


	3. Chapter Two

AN: I did a little bit of digging and found out that the Puritans were some of the first people not only to teach their women and children, but also their servants to read and write. After all, if you couldn't read and write, you couldn't study your Bible diligently like they wanted you to… SO, using A=B=C=A logic, if the Puritans were a literate society, and Jack is reputed to be a Puritan, then Jack must be literate. I have no idea if this is going to come into play in this story or not, but I just thought I'd share the knowledge since most fics have Jack being illiterate. Oddly enough the drive to educate their servants didn't extend to the Africans or Native American servants that lived in their communities. Ah, the fickleness of man… Anyway, that was the thought for the day. As always, I own nothing! Also slight warning, major spoiler if you haven't seen ROTG. I mean, like word for word spoiler. Enjoy my lovelies!

* * *

Melinda sat attentively perched on the stool by her cash register, her fingers dancing on the laptop's keyboard in front of her. She was so focused on the screen she barely registered the sound of the shop bell jingling cheerily as the door opened. A quick glance made her smile as the tall man approached. "Hey you!" She greeted, not taking her attention away from the computer.

"Uh-oh." He smiled good-naturedly. "I know that look. Another one?"

"Yeah." She nodded, her smile dimming slightly with sorrow. "Take a look." She invited, turning the screen to face her husband.

He frowned at the image filling the browser window. Though the woman's hair was tied back and covered, and her dark clothing was somber, the painting still managed to somehow be bright and soft in an old style. "What am I looking at?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Ellen Sophia Marie Overland." Melinda announced proudly. "Delia brought me a locket today and she was the first owner. It took me all afternoon to find her." She held out the locket for Jim's inspection. "You can see her wearing it in the painting." She said pointing out the small piece of jewelry.

"So have you been talking to Ellen Sophia Marie Overland?" Jim asked playfully.

"I don't know." The young woman sighed. "I haven't 'seen' her yet."

Her husband's grin lost its humor as his face filled with concern. "Then what makes you think this is your ghost?"

"I'm not sure it is her." Melinda confessed. "I've only heard her once just after Delia dropped of the locket. She's worried about someone called Jamie."

He looked down at her and sighed. "Dare I ask who Jamie is?"

This time she smiled. "I think Jamie is her grandson, James. He died when he and his brother were eight. They're the twins on the left." She said helpfully pointing them out in the locket. "There's no way of knowing which one is which yet."

"So the one on the right is the surviving brother?" Jim guessed.

"Could be." She shrugged. "But I think it's their uncle, Jackson. He was supposed to have looked just like the twins, but I can't find any known paintings of him. He died in 1702, so that's not unusual."

He winced slightly. "You're working with a three hundred year old ghost?" He frowned. "How are you going to help her?"

Melinda shrugged, choosing to ignore the question she couldn't answer. "Actually, I think it is Jackson." She said, returning to the subject of the dead youth. "He died when he was seventeen; it would make sense that Ellen would have a locket of her dead son, and when she passed it on to her daughter she would have added the paintings of her children."

"How'd they die?" Jim asked slowly.

"Ellen died of old age. Jackson just went missing. There's some speculation that he fell through an icy pond and drowned, but they never recovered the body. His sister, Hannah died at the age of twenty-seven, three years after her son James died at the age of eight. Best guess is that James died of a childhood disease, though they recorded it as an unexplained death, and Hannah followed him." She explained sadly. "But the story does have a bit of a happy ending. Jackson, the older twin lived a long life, had tons of kids and died in his sleep at the age of seventy-three. I found the family gravesites!" She ended cheerfully.

"And where are they?" He asked cautiously, well aware of the eager tone in his wife's voice.

She smiled up at him. "Not too far from here, really. The family lived and is buried just up in Burgess. I was thinking about driving up there this weekend to do some digging. Wanna come?"

He laughed at his wife's turn of phrase. "Hopefully not the illegal type of digging." He teased. "As much as I'd love to go ghostbusting with you, I'm on call this weekend."

She laughed. "That's okay. You can come next time." She said giving him a quick kiss.

* * *

_Maria watched curiously at the window as the young couple prepared for bed. The woman's satiny nightgown shimmered in the light of the bedside lamp as she stood over her husband, chatting aimlessly about the day's discoveries, smiling down at him. The wind watched as the two teased each other before she joined him in the bed and the lamp was switched off._

_Still the little spirit watched, unsure why she was drawn to this house, this woman. The woman was already home and in no need of Maria's mournful cries to draw her mind and her memories back…_

_Then she felt a third presence in the small room. The sorrow and longing were palpable, drawing the remembered voices to her lips. At first, she was shocked by the sound of the voice that filled her, but as the window seemed to open on it's own, she couldn't help but release the whispered memories._

"…_You're gonna be alright…" Her dear friend's voice seemed to echo in the still, dark room. "…You're not gonna fall in. We're gonna have a little fun instead…" She watched as the woman on the bed began to toss and turn in the grip of the memories from a time before she was even born. "…We're gonna play hopscotch. Like we do everyday." Maria frowned as the woman's face twisted in fear, but the memory wasn't done yet. "…Now it's you're turn. One… Two… Three!"_

_The woman woke with a scream sending Maria flitting away shyly._

_For the rest of the night the little wind spirit moved restlessly through the small town, crying softly to herself, watching the golden sand of the Sandman's dreams as it gently brushed aside her lonesome cries. _

_Suddenly, Maria stopped, staring at the sweetly flowing golden river. Jack needed to be here, and she knew just how to get his attention. With deliberate intent she thrust both hands deeply into the golden dreams, her mournful voice turning them into dreams of longing and memory. They would still be sweet, but now the dreamers would wake with bittersweet tears instead of hopeful smiles. That would get the Sandman's attention… And he could get Jack's._

* * *

She was young, no older than eight or nine. The simple brown homespun dress was as strange as it was familiar, as were the small bladed boots tied securely to her feet. Giggling she pulled her older brother out onto the surface of the small pond just outside their village. "C'mon Jack!" She exclaimed, knowing her fun-loving sibling wouldn't need much encouragement. '_But I don't have a brother._' The thought was fleeting and soon forgotten as the two of them skimmed over the virgin ice.

"Betchya can't catch me Hannah-Bo-Bannah!" Jack laughed, lightly tugging a small lock of hair as he glided past her. '_But my name is Melinda_.'

Again the thought was forgotten as she sped off in chase. Neither one noticed the thick groaning crackle of the ice that was drown out by their good cheer, until she paused to catch her breath. Their laughter died suddenly as a sharp crack split the air, and the ice beneath her skates. She stared in dawning horror at the spider's web of cracks that had come from seemingly nowhere.

"Hannah, don't move." Jack said, the sudden seriousness frightening on his normally playful face.

"Jack?" Her voice was thin and shaky as she watched him quickly drop to his knees and yank off his own skates. He flinched slightly as his bare feet hit the cold ice; otherwise, his gentle face was a frozen mask of sobriety. The look only served to frighten her more. "Jack…" She cried.

He swallowed and watched her with wide cautious eyes. "It's okay." He said as he slowly regained his feet. "It's okay, just don't look down. Look at me."

Melinda/Hannah struggled to keep her eyes on him, but failed. Her gaze shifted downward to the thin cracks before the tore it back up to her older brother. "Jack, I'm scared." She whimpered.

"I know, I know." He soothed as the cracks began to spread under her slight weight. Slowly he took a cautious step towards her, mindful of the groaning ice beneath his own cold toes. "But you're gonna be alright." His bright eyes were calm and eager as his hands wove in gentle motions that had chased away every childhood fear until now. "You're not gonna fall in." He said with forced cheer, thinking quickly. "We're gonna have a little fun instead!"

"No we're not!" She wailed as the spider's web spread loudly beneath her.

"Would I trick you?" He asked slyly as he inched sideways over the deadly ice.

Melinda/Hannah sobbed. "Yes! You always play tricks!"

"Oh, alright." He conceded. "Well, not this time. I promise, I promise. You're gonna be… You're gonna be fine." She risked a glance down then, swallowing her fear, looked back to the lanky teen she was starting to believe. "You have to believe in me." He said, his words mirroring her thoughts.

With a deep, frightened breath she focused on her brother. "You wanna play a game?" He asked suddenly, his eyes lighting up the way they did when he was up to something. "We're gonna play hopscotch. Like we play everyday." Her nut-brown eyes followed him in confusion. "It's as easy as one…" He took a step forward, quickly hiding a wince as the ice snapped ominously beneath him. "Woah!" He teased, his arms pin-wheeling wildly as he pretended to struggle for balance, startling a giggle out of his little sister. "Two…" His second step was true, back onto firm solid ice. "Three!" The quick hop had him safely by the crook he so often used to coral both the village's goats and children.

"Alright, now it's your turn." He encouraged, gripping the crook that she knew would pull her to safety as it had a thousand times before. Her eyes lit with hope as he started to count. "One." She took a tentative step and gasped as the cracks spread beneath her feet. "That's it! That's it!" He murmured reassuringly. "Two." Her eyes followed him as he leaned closer, balancing easily on his toes as he often did when he was excited or anxious. "Three!" He yelled as she glanced fearfully down. Even as he spoke, the crook darted out and snagged her waist, flipping her to safety.

Melinda/Hannah barely registered as her weight threw her brother off balance and he stumbled and fell back, barely catching himself on his knees. For a single heartbeat they stared at each other, grinning in triumph at the near miss. Then with a sudden loud crack the ice gave and Jack was gone. "Jack!" She shrieked, to frightened to go near the frozen gaping maw that had swallowed her brother. "Jack!" The shrill cry echoed in the empty woods around her as she stood trembling on the ice beside Jack's abandoned skates. "JACK!"

* * *

Melinda shot up from the nightmare, the dead teen's name still echoing in their bedroom. Jim jerked awake beside her, sitting up quickly in bed. "Are you alright?" He asked, wrapping strong arms gently around her.

"Yeah." She answered automatically, her mind wrapping just as tightly around the dream. "Hannah." She said suddenly.

"Hannah?" Jim frowned, missing the leap in logic.

"The ghost is Hannah!" She explained quickly. "In the dream I was Hannah?"

He sighed tiredly, his mind struggling from the sudden waking. "Who's Hannah?"

"Ellen's daughter, Jackson's sister." She reminded him. "I think she was there when Jackson died."

"What makes you think that?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Because that's what she showed me."

* * *

So, how many of you thought Hannah was Jack's mom and how many of you guessed she was Jack's sister? Just because I'm curious. Lol. This fic seems to be moving a a pretty good clip, and I don't' expect it to be one of my ridiculously long ones, so we'll see how it goes! Hopefully I can keep up the pace!


	4. Chapter Three

AN: I'm so sorry, but I'm going to be working overtime for the next week or so, so I thought I'd update before then since I might not get a chance to until after the 4th. Finally, a character from ROTG! Lol. I know this is a crossover, but sometimes it doesn't feel like it. And I'm so sorry that this chapter is crazy short, but I'll try to add more as soon as I can! The good news is that Jamie and maybe Jack will finally make an appearance in the next chapter. Don't hate me! :'(

* * *

_The little golden form of the Sandman stood glaring at the silver tinged dreams that filled the tiny town. Not a single dream had been spared. Every single sweet dream had been tainted with the sadness. There was no sign of the black fear that Pitch had used to ruin his dreams. Instead longing and loss had sharpened the dreams._

_He drifted over the little town, glaring at the tainted dreams. There was only one spirit that had mastered the bittersweet sorrow of needful longing. The Sandman's large golden eyes began searching carefully for any sign of the Wind. Maria was the master of voices that called people back home to the ones that loved them, one of the few spirits that could affect adults as well as children. She was well aware of the dangerous sorrow her voices could cause. She would never let loose like this. She _couldn't_ let loose like this._

_He frowned as the first few restless sleepers woke with tears in theirs eyes. Surely the little wind spirit wasn't attacking the small town. He spent the remainder of the night repairing the tainted dreams that plagued Grandview. He stayed until the sun was peeking over the horizon and the Man in the Moon was beckoning him on to the next town. At first he resisted, knowing that the small town was still in trouble. If Maria was still in a fit tomorrow night the Guardians would be forced to act._

* * *

Jim seemed slightly morose as Melinda watched him get ready for the day ahead, not that she could say anything. After the disturbing dream of the Overland boy's tragic death she had barely drifted off to sleep only to enjoy painfully sweet dreams about her childhood, and she had a sneaky suspicion that she wasn't the only one. Though she had pretended not to notice, she knew Jim had woken up crying.

He frowned to himself as he watched the coffee slowly drip into the pot, the rich dark aroma filling their little kitchen. "Whatchya thinkin' about?" She asked playfully, trying to draw him out of his melancholy.

For a moment he was quiet, just watching the pot. Then he sighed. "I was thinking about Dan." He shrugged. "Just wondering where he'd be now, what he'd be doing. That sort of thing."

With a sad smile Melinda moved to hug him from behind. "You know he's in a better place."

"I know." Her husband agreed. "I just miss him."

"I know how you feel." She smiled sadly as he turned to share the embrace. "I dreamed about my Grandmother after I went back to sleep."

"I'm sorry." He sighed.

"Don't be." She chided gently. "It was a good dream."

Before he could respond the coffee pot burbled its completion and he released his hold on her. Grabbing the silver travel mug he liked to take to work, he filled it quickly. "Do you want to do something for lunch?" he asked as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

"Sure!" She agreed brightly. "Just pick me up when you get a break."

"Will do!" he smiled. With a quick kiss he was gone.

* * *

Delia was waiting for her as she pulled up to the shop, a small smile on her lips as she watched the people milling about the square. "Hey!" Melinda called as she got out of the car.

"Hey, yourself." The older woman greeted as Melinda approached. "I have coffee." She said, holding up two paper cups from the Village Java.

"Yay." Melinda laughed, unlocking the doors to the shop. "Coffee is always welcome."

"Did you find anything out about the locket?" Delia asked as she followed her friend inside.

"Well," the younger woman hedged as she set her things down on the counter. "I think I may have found the original owner. And I'm pretty sure I know who the boys in the paintings are."

"Do tell?" The taller woman asked teasingly, handing the Melinda a coffee and taking a sip of her own.

Melinda accepted the drink, tasting it before answering. "Oh, yum. I think it belonged to a Puritan woman. Her name was Ellen." She said softly. "From what I can find I think it was a gift from her husband after their son died."

"That's kind of sad." Delia frowned. "So is the son the boy in the picture?"

"The older one." Melinda nodded. "I think." She clarified. "Ellen passed the locket down to her daughter, so I think the other two boys are the daughter's twins."

"That would make sense." Delia agreed.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure yet." Melinda cautioned her. "I'm planning on heading up to Burgess to do some more digging this weekend."

"Burgess?"

"It's where the family lived." She explained. "Do you wanna come? You could bring Ned?"

"Are you sure?" Delia asked, trying to hide her eagerness.

"Yeah." The younger woman smiled. "It'll be fun!"

"Okay, if you're sure. Ned and I could probably use a little break." She said with an expression Melinda wasn't used to seeing on the optimistic woman.

"Uh-oh. What's wrong?" She asked kindly.

"Nothing's wrong." Delia said quickly. "It's just… Ned and I both dreamed about Charlie last night. It just left us feeling a bit…"

"Wistful?" Melinda supplied. At the other's nod she smiled in understanding. "Yeah, us too." She confessed. Then she backtracked at Delia's startled look. "Oh, not about Charlie! Jim was dreaming about his brother, Dan, and I spent the night thinking about my Grandmother."

"Weird." Delia mused. "You're the third person besides Ned to tell me that they were thinking about lost loved ones today. It's odd."

"Yeah." The young woman frowned. "That is odd."

"Well," her friend shrugged with her more usual cheerful smile. "I guess we'll see you this weekend! Where should we meet you?"


	5. Chapter Four

AN: I hope you all love me. I should be asleep right now, but I wanted to give you all something before the 4th. That and I've got so many pages written I was starting to dread typing them all up… Anyway, here it is. BTW, the only religious practices I'm truly familiar with are my own,so please forgive me for any mistakes I make with Puritans and/or Catholics. I hope you enjoy and forgive any typos, I'm going on very little sleep here… As always I own nothing… I feel like I'm forgetting to tell you all something very important, but I guess I'll tell you in the next chapter because I can't think of it now. So, yeah, ENJOY!

* * *

The day was clear and bright when Melinda, Delia, and Ned started out in her bright red jeep, leaving Delia's SUV parked safely at Melinda's house. The two-hour drive quickly changed though, as they neared the small town of Burgess. Heavy white clouds filled the sky and as they entered the sleepy town, the first few fat flakes began to fall.

"Is it seriously snowing in May?" Ned asked skeptically even as the evidence began to quickly pile up on every bare surface of the town.

"Looks like it!" Melinda shrugged, finding a parking spot near the town's quaint little church. "Good thing we dressed warm, huh?"

"Yeah." Delia agreed as the three of them got out of the jeep. "So, how do you do this?" She asked the young antique dealer. "And why are we at a church?"

The younger woman laughed slightly. "I told you the Overlands were a Puritan family, right? Well, St. Agatha's is the oldest church in town. They'd be the ones most likely to have any surviving records from the 1700's." She explained as they climbed the simple steps to the old stone building.

"Really?" Delia asked surprised. "I would have figured town hall would have had more records."

"They will have some, but our best bet is going to be here. Then we can check the library for and public records going back that far."

"Is this just going to be you two looking at a bunch of dusty old papers?" Ned asked disappointedly.

Melinda laughed as her friend sighed in exasperation. "Some of it yes," the young woman admitted, "but not all of it."

Opening the door she led the mother and son into the old stone church. They paused just inside the doorway, letting their eyes adjust to the artificial lighting. The small group had only been there a moment or two when an older man approached them, smiling politely. "Can I help you?" He asked, his deep voice kind and soft.

"Yes!" The young brunette said, stepping forward. "My name is Melinda Gordon. I called and spoke to Father Jacob."

"Ah!" The old man smiled. "It's nice to meet you. Please, call me Jake. We aren't overly formal here in Burgess."

"Nice to meet you Father Jake. This is my friend Delia. She owns the locket I told you about."

"Nice to meet you." The old priest said, extending his hand.

"Likewise." Delia smiled, accepting the handshake.

"And this is her son Ned."

"Yo." Ned nodded with a half-hearted salute.

"I'm sorry." Delia winced as the old man laughed. "I promise he has better manners."

"No need." Father Jake smiled. "We have a high population of children. I'm used to their antics."

"Yeah." Melinda nodded. "I noticed that in my research. You guys must be super protective of your kids. This town hasn't has a major injury to a minor in more than a hundred years. How do you do it?"

The priest shrugged. "When I was young we just called it luck. But last Easter the kids came up with their own explanation."

"Really?" Delia asked. "What's that?"

Father Jake laughed. ""You won't believe it." He teased. "They believe that Jack Frost lives in the woods outside of town and that he's the one who protects them."

"Who's Jack Frost?" Ned frowned.

"Aw, c'mon. You've never heard of Jack Frost nipping at your nose?" Melinda teased.

"I thought that was just an expression." The ten-year-old shrugged.

"Don't let the kids hear you say that." The old priest advised. "That's grounds for a serious snow war in this town."

"That's another thing." Melinda asked with her quirky smile. "Does it often snow in May?"

Again the old man laughed. "Did you see the town sign?" He asked.

"Winter's favorite town?" Delia supplied when Melinda shook her head.

"We get more snowfall than anywhere else in the US." He informed them. "Makes you wonder if the kids know something we don't. Now, if you want to come to my office, I believe you came to ask me about the old Puritan settlement, not fairy tales told in the front door of my church.

* * *

Jack perched precariously on the head of the town's monument, surveying his gift to the children of Burgess: one final snow day before he left for the summer. He smiled as he admitted to himself that the snow days in Burgess had become much more fun now that the children could see him to invite him to participate.

"Aw-right! Snow Day!" Right on cue the twins came gallivanting onto the square, laughing and pelting each other with frozen projectiles. "Thanks Jack!"

"You're welcome!" He called from his perch as Pippa and Monty joined the two. The tall girl squeaked when Claude's snowball struck her face, then in a fit of giggles she and the small blonde boy began to retaliate. Jack's own laughter filled the air as he leapt up and began throwing his own icy ammo. As soon as the shrieks started up Jamie and Sophie made their own appearance dragging a surely Cupcake behind them.

The young Guardian spied her reluctance and Sophie's small form and a soft flurry of snowflakes whirled their way, dusting the two with good cheer. Soon they were hard at play on a small snow family. As other children filled the square, some believers, some not, Jack pulled back from the snowball fight to inspect his handiwork, a light smile in his icy blue eyes the only evidence he was well pleased.

"This is the last snow this year?" He looked down to see Jamie watching him with sad brown eyes that reminded him so much of his barely remembered sister.

"At least until October." Jack nodded. "I'll try to come back early if I can."

"Do you think something's going to happen?" The eight-year-old frowned.

"Not really." Jack shrugged. "But I've got a reputation to protect. I've spent the last three hundred years on the Naughty List and now North is going to 'wipe clean slate.'" He said in a horrid Russian accent, making Jamie laugh. "I've got to come up with something awesome to get back on it."

"I can think of something!" Jamie suggested wickedly. "Let me get my sled!"

"Ha ha! Yeah!" The Guardian crowed, leaping after the strongest believer.

Moments later five children were sledding dangerously in the street, missing cars by inches, knocking over pedestrians, and causing general mayhem that was barely forgiven by their victims because of the obvious joy on their faces. Jack sped ahead of them, ice appearing magically beneath his bare feet as he plotted a course to maximize chaos while minimizing injuries. After all, Toohthiana still hadn't forgiven him for Jamie's last sledding accident.

He was just preparing for an awesome loop-the-loop when his face dropped and he instead swerved the ramp to an abrupt end in a heavily powdered snow bank. He hardly noticed the children's cries of exaltation as the each crashed stupendously into the soft snow; his eyes were locked on the northern skies.

At first the giggling kids didn't notice his distraction, but eventually the giggles and laughter faded away as they saw his stubborn expression. "Jack?" Jamie called, disentangling himself from the pile. "What's wrong?"

Ice blue eyes flickered from the Aurora Borealis to the young boy. "It's North. He's calling the us."

"The Guardians?" Jamie frowned as the others exchanged a nervous glance. "Is someone in trouble?"

"Maybe." Jack frowned. "I've got to go."

"Yeah." The boy nodded firmly, a proud smile peeking at his lips. "Go save them."

"I will." Jack said with a quick nod. He sprung into the air, snagging a stray Nor'easter and he was gone.

"See you in October!" Jamie yelled after him as the others all fought their way up, scrambling to shout their own good-byes to the Winter Spirit.


	6. Chapter Five

A/N: Because someone asked, here's a brief family tree for Jack's family. Now, just because you know it, doesn't mean Jack does. He has no clue what happened to his family after Hannah died. For him, even though it happened centuries ago, since he just remembered her, Hannah is still ten years old. It hasn't dawned on him that maybe she grew up and had kids of her own. He hasn't realized that she might have descendants wandering about the world today, so he really hasn't thought to look for what might be left of his family.

Ellen Sophia-Married-Josiah Overland they had two kids:

Jackson (Jack Frost) died 1702 and Hannah-Married-Benjamin Abbot who also had two kids:

James (Jamie) died 1718 and Jackson Abbot -Married-Eliza, they have three known descendants presently.

Now, here's the story. As always I don't own anything, and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Father Jake led them to a cozy office with thick woven rugs covering the old stone floor. The two walls not covered in bookshelves were adorned with beautiful hand-made quilts. A large wooden framed window looked out over the old cemetery, the street just visible. It should have been a haunting view, but was instead, somehow peaceful.

"These are lovely." Delia complimented, her eyes glued to the tapestries.

"My wife makes them." He told her proudly. "Whenever the church helps someone we give them one, so they're always changing. I keep them here because they keep the room warm. Now, you asked about the old Overland family when you called?"

"Yes!" Melinda nodded. "We know that the locket belonged to Ellen Overland, but I think we were more interested in the boys in the locket?" She said, glancing over at Delia for confirmation.

"I'm just curious." The older woman shrugged. "I want to know whatever you can find."

The old man smiled. "The Overlands were one of the first families to settle in Burgess after it was formed." The priest told them. "In fact, the were from a somewhat prominent family in England, which was the reason Josiah was able to afford to give his wife the locket when their son was born."

"I thought the locket was a gift when Jackson died." Melinda interrupted frowning.

"Not quite." The old man shook his head. "It was commissioned the day he was born, and for sixteen years it held his portrait from his Christening. The Burgess Historical Society still has that portrait, though I believe it's kept in their archives."  
"Is there any way we could see it?"

"You'd need to ask someone from the Historical Society, but I don't see why not." He informed the younger woman.

"What happened to him?" Delia asked curiously. "All Mel's told me so far was that he disappeared."

"I suppose you could say that." He sighed. "Jackson's body was never found. From Ellen's diary at the Society, and church records, we know that he and his sister went out to go ice skating a few weeks after Christmas, and they thought he might have fallen through some thin ice. Naturally, Hannah Overland was beyond upset; she couldn't really tell them what had happened. That week, Josiah commissioned a second painting from one of the villagers who had known Jackson best. I'm guessing that's the portrait you have in the locket now."

"Okay." Melinda frowned. "What do you know about the other two boys?"

"Another tragedy, I'm afraid." The old priest sighed. "Sixteen years later, Hannah had the locket. By then she'd married a young man named Benjamin Abbott, and they had their own two sons, Jackson Abbott and his younger twin James. They were eight when someone broke into their home one night and murdered James."

"That's terrible." Delia empathized.

"Yes. They never found the killer. Young Jack was the only witness, and all he would say was that the Bogeyman had killed his brother."

"A bogeyman?" The young antique dealer asked carefully, the memory of chilling laughter in her ears. "Did he describe his bogeyman?"

"As well as he could." Father Jake shrugged. "In fact some of the old posters that were sent around the village are still intact today."

"They had wanted posters?" Ned asked curiously.

"Yes." The man smiled. "The Puritans were actually a very well-educated society."

A sudden shrill scream made Melinda jump though the other three seemed not to notice it, looking at her oddly. "Um, could you excuse me a moment." She said quickly, standing and ducking to the door. "I'll be right back." The three of them were looking curiously at her as the door closed behind her.

"Okay." She chided the scarce ghost. "You and I need to work on our communication skills. Screaming at me in a room full of people is not okay."

"James!" Hannah's shriek of terror made Melinda jump again, turning toward the source of the sound. She found herself facing another window overlooking the edge of the cemetery. The apparition stood there, her black gown stark against the pristine snow, her dark hair hidden beneath the simple bonnet. Her gaze was a mask of maternal fear as her gaze followed something in the street.

Melinda's gaze followed hers in time to see a young boy on a sled come flying off the street and crash head first into a mound of snow on one of the larger graves. "Oh no." She gasped, bolting for the front of the church.

Moments later she was rushing down the church steps and around to the graveyard in time to see four children disentangling themselves from a heap in the snow, all of them shouting cheerful good byes and encouragement to the sky. "Are you kids okay?" She called out, hurrying toward them.

"We're good!" a young black boy with wild hair crowed. "Jack totally had us! Right Jamie?"

Her eyes shot to the boy named Jamie as he turned, and her breath caught. The child looked so much like the boys in the locket, right down to the same missing tooth. "Yeah." He said with calm confidence. "Jack wouldn't let anything hurt us."

"Jack?" Melinda frowned, getting a bed feeling.

"Yeah." The brunette smiled. "Jack Frost. He's a Guardian."

"A Guardian?" She asked, carefully crunching through the snow to the kids.

"Yeah. Like Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny."

"And the Toothfairy!" The first boy added, nodding vigorously.

"And the Sandman." A tall lanky girl put in. "But we see Jack the most."

"Winter's favorite town?" Melinda guessed.

"Sorta…" The boy called Jamie shrugged. "Jack kinda lives in the woods by the old pond. But we don't go out there without him."

"Well, I guess it would be a bit rude to go in someone's house when they aren't home." She reasoned, playing along.

"That's not why." Piped up a small blonde boy with large glasses. "It's 'cause the Bogeyman lives out there too."

The wild wind carried Jack swiftly to the Pole where he was unsurprised to see North and the others waiting for him. Bunnymund lounged lazily against one of the large pillars, a small group of unpainted eggs sitting patiently at his large feet. Toothiana flitted amongst her tiny selves giving rapid-fire instructions, while North and Sandy were deep in a rather one-sided conversation. As soon as she noticed him, Jack's little Baby Tooth squeaked loudly and flitted to him, settling herself in the hood of the old faded blue sweater.

"Ah, Jack!" North boomed, having noticed the tiny fairy's flight. "We are waiting for you!"

"Yeah." The immortal teen grinned cockily. "What's up? You totally cheated Jamie's snow day."

"You still hangin' 'round there?" Bunny smirked. "I thought you were the free spirit type. Next thing we know you'll be settin' up shop."

"Not likely." Jack scoffed. "Burgess is just… important…"

"How is Jamie?" North interrupted, curious for news of the strongest believer.

"Still believing." He told them. "Sophie's getting big." He added with a knowing glance at the pooka.

"Little Ankle-biter." Bunny mumbled to himself.

"Anyway, why did you call?" He asked, returning his attention to the Cossack.

"Not me." North denied, shaking his head and gesturing to the much smaller form beside him. "It was Sandy."

All eyes fell on the tiny golden man whose golden gaze was locked on Jack. A tiny image swirled over his head, a small girl of sand the seemed to form and blow away with frightening rapidity.

It took a moment for the youngest Guardian to interpret the image. "Maria?" He frowned.

Sandy nodded and a map with a large question mark replaced the image. "I dunno." Jack shrugged. "She was in Burgess, but she left last week. I was gonna hit Manhattan, then meet up with her later near there before we set out for Siberia. Why?"

In answer a small stream of silvery dream sand floated over to the Spirit of Winter Games. He frowned, his fingers delving into the argent grains. With a quick swirl the sand formed into a young girl with along hair skipping gaily in a game of hopscotch. "It's… sad…" Jack said slowly. "I mean, it's good, but…"

The golden Sandman nodded sagely, the image of Maria once again forming from the dream sand.

"You guys think Maria did this?" Jack asked angrily. "But, why would she?" He demanded.

Sandy shrugged, looking as bewildered as Jack. A small golden pictogram of the winter sprite appeared next to the wispy image of the wind spirit and the two began to gesticulate to each other.

"You want me to talk to her?" Jack blinked startled.

"You've got the best chance o' findin' her, Frostbite." Bunny shrugged. "We'll come along in case she gets a bit…"

"Tempestuous?" Tooth offered.

"Precisely." North agreed with a wide smile.

Jack looked at the other three before his snowy-sky eyes fell back on the small Sandman. The little golden man gave him a sleepy smile full of gentle confidence. "Okay." Jack Frost agreed. "Any idea where to start looking for her?"

The sand above Sandy's head sifted to form a simple town sign reading 'Welcome to Grandview, NY!'


End file.
